


Walking Disaster

by onstraysod



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Arousal, Bickering, Biting, Blood, Body Worship, Confrontations, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Lust, M/M, Post-Canon, Shirtless Lightsaber Training, Slight Sadomasochism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 18:09:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6089566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onstraysod/pseuds/onstraysod
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Responsible for bringing Kylo Ren safely to Leader Snoke to complete his training, General Hux refuses to let the volatile knight out of his sight. His vigilance, however, leaves Hux with unwanted feelings, feelings that Kylo Ren may have discerned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walking Disaster

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ProfDrLachfinger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfDrLachfinger/gifts).



He tried not to think about him. It was better that way. Better for the orderly administration of the _Finalizer_. Better for his own sanity.

Of course it was not always possible. He had his instructions from Leader Snoke to watch Ren closely, and Snoke didn't need to make his instructions any more explicit. Hux knew perfectly well what it was he needed to remain vigilant for. Incursions of the light slicing their way inside the knight were of less immediate concern to Hux, however, than the ways Ren might adopt to keep them at bay. Meditation in his darkened chamber was one thing, but when it was accompanied by fasting that might continue for days, or the purposeful reopening of wounds to experience their pain anew - then it crossed a stark and unacceptable line. Such practices would only leave Ren in a more weakened state than he was already in, and with the First Order regrouping following the destruction of Starkiller Base - and with the Resistance poised to strike their temporarily vulnerable target - it was crucial that Kylo Ren be in optimal condition. Besides that, Hux was to deliver Ren soon to Leader Snoke in order to complete his training and it hardly bore considering Snoke's disappointment if he were brought a mutilated shell rather than the hardened warrior he was expecting.

So Hux became a second shadow, trailing close but unobtrusively behind Kylo Ren's black robes, observing everything: from the way Ren moved to the tone of his voice and what he did with his hands. Did he curl the fingers in his black gloves, clenching his fists reflexively? That was a tell Hux had noticed before, an indiction of rising anger or frustration. He had made a study of Ren for quite some time, beginning long before he had first seen the face behind the mask. He had done so, in those days, to try to guess at the kind of monster hidden beneath all that black, the beast that seemed to feed on pain and run on rage. Hux had grown adept, over time, at hearing the subtle fluctuations in Ren's voice despite the filter of the voice modulator: the little inflection at the end of words that betokened sarcasm, the clipped note that accompanied a loss of temper. He could tell when the mouth that formed the words was smirking or grimacing by the way the words sounded and this gave him a clue as to when he might relax a little and when he needed to be on his guard.

But all his careful observations - his ability to discern Kylo Ren's mood from the way he carried his body, the set of his shoulders, the position of his hands - had had an unexpected side effect that Hux had neither anticipated or desired. He despised himself for it, the weakness that had permitted such thoughts - such impulses - to gain a foothold inside his head, but there was no denying that such a weakness existed, for the thoughts arose to assail him with such frequency now that it was beginning to impinge upon his ability to carry out his duties. Turning from the projection of a planetary map to measure the width between two broad shoulders with his gaze, or breaking off mid-sentence while relaying orders to Captain Phasma because he'd caught the flash of a long, black-clad thigh beneath Ren's robes, was bad enough. But waking in the middle of the night, feverish, the image of a black-gloved hand pressing him back against a wall before tearing at the fastening of his belt -- waking with his sheet balled in his fist as if it were the black wool of those robes, and the memory of a dream in which Ren's knee had been thrust between his thighs so fresh that he was still hard -- that was all simply intolerable. Dousing his bare chest with ice cold water, punishing his body with exercises in order to realign his thoughts with the priorities of the First Order's mission, Hux had battled the unwanted longings. And almost won.

Until the day when the scavenger had been brought on board. The day when he had been summoned to appear before Leader Snoke in the audience chamber and had seen, for the first time, the face beneath the metal-ribbed helmet.

Hux's first reaction, glancing at the face he had so long tried to imagine, had been astonishment - and not a little alarm - at its youth. This-- this man barely out of his adolescence - this was the weapon that the First Order had pinned all its hopes upon, the new Vader who would lead them to the domination of the galaxy? It did not inspire him with confidence at the very moment when he was enraged by Ren's brash certainty that he could extract the needed information from the Jakku girl. Yet Hux's second reaction had been even less welcome. His gaze had returned, again and again, to that mouth, to those wide, full lips - and he could not help himself from contemplating the miracles it might be able to perform if given the right surface to work upon.

Was this the definition of madness, Hux wondered. The loss of an ability to control one's own thoughts? An intensity of focus on one object eliciting traitorous reactions from one's flesh? That he felt such a spiraling confusion was horrible enough; that he felt it because of Kylo Ren, of all people - that arrogant, self-centered supernova teetering every minute on the verge of destruction - brought a sharp tang of disgust to every moment of arousal. If he could be free of his charge he might also be free of these urges. But that could not happen until he delivered Ren - healthy and intact - to Leader Snoke, and he could not ensure Ren's readiness if he did not keep his eye on the volatile knight.

So Hux gritted his teeth and buried the awful desires as deeply down inside of him as he could.

On that particular day, only three days after Ren had left the medical bay and returned to his own quarters, a problem in one of the hangars had occupied Hux's attention for several hours, keeping him from his careful watch. When the situation was almost sorted out he used his comm to order Phasma to check on the knight; the response he received back was alarming.

"His quarters are empty," Phasma reported. "And no one has seen him all morning."

Swearing beneath his breath, Hux left the hangar, his swift stride down each corridor sending troopers and droids scurrying in the opposite direction. What had Ren done to himself? In his need to avenge his defeat had he sliced each of his wounds open so that the fresh pain might drive him to new depths of anger? Or had he taken a shuttle and, like a reckless fool, gone off on some blind chase of the scavenger girl and her Resistance friends? Hux considered calling the captain of each hangar and asking if any shuttles had recently departed, but a sudden flash of insight made him hesitate and turn around. There was one other possibility...

The medical droids - in peril of having their internal circuitry ripped out - had warned Kylo Ren to his face against engaging in any strenuous training for at least another week, to avoid tearing at the fusion of his wounds or risk any more internal bleeding. So, naturally, Hux found him inside his private exercise chamber, doing exactly that. Hux let himself into the stark cell with its obsidian walls and floor and paused on the threshold, filled with anger and another, equally intense sensation that made him want to spin on his heel and flee as far away as he could go. Instead, he balled his fists, drew a deep breath, and waited.

Ren was using his deadly, handcrafted lightsaber to slash away at a mechanical probe that hovered and danced unpredictably through the air around him. Stripped to the waist, his long, pale torso gleamed in the plasma light that ran in a narrow band around the periphery of the room and flashed from the probe as it spun. He held the saber single-handed, swinging it in wide arcs towards the probe, the blade slicing through the air with a humming crackle, his other arm extended at an angle for equilibrium. Hux stared, hypnotized despite himself by the ripple of muscles beneath the sheen of sweat that coated Ren's skin: the shift of his shoulder blades as he pivoted towards the probe's new position; the strain and bulge of his biceps as he lifted the saber and slashed from a different angle. Each time it was struck the probe made a popping noise and Ren never missed it, no matter how quickly it moved or how sharply it altered its course in mid-air. With each strike, too, came a shower of sparks and Hux wondered if this were intentional in the design of the probe or whether Ren was slowly destroying it with the violence of his hits. These became even more forceful when he gripped the lightsaber with both hands, increasing the power of each swing and stab, grunting softly with the effort of each move.

"Ren." Hux tried to keep the anger out of his voice, but failed. "Ren! Stop this this instant! I was there when the medical droids warned you against this very behavior..."

It was no use. Kylo Ren ignored Hux as completely as if he had been but another probe, hovering inactivated in the corner. Or perhaps not. The knight's rage seemed to double and he executed a sudden spin, bringing the blade up with such force that it sliced the probe in half and sent both pieces to shatter against the far wall in a shower of sparks and a burst of acrid smoke.

"Well," Hux murmured, "another piece of equipment destroyed. I'll add it to your ever growing tally."

Kylo turned for the first time to look at him, dark eyes flashing with the heat of his exercise. He took one hand from the hilt of his saber and used it to brush a piece of thick black hair from his brow where it had stuck to his sweat. "What do you want, General?"

"To ensure that Supreme Leader Snoke's investment survives its voyage." Hux held his head high, regarding Ren down the slope of his nose - something he could only do when the knight was at a respectable distance and not looming over him at close range. "You have an unfortunate penchant for destruction when frustrated, as that probe has just discovered. I needed to make sure such violence didn't extend to your own person."

Kylo stopped pacing - a pacing that reminded Hux of an exotic beast, caged in a trader's stall - and the dark eyes fixed on the general's face. Hux watched with unease as those lips - oh, those lips! shaped with such a capacity for pleasure and cruelty - curled ever so slightly up into the hint of a humorless smile. "Your concern for my person is touching, Hux."

Hux felt a warmth overspread his cheeks that he hoped was not visible against the pallor of his skin. "Do not deceive yourself, Ren. My concern is for my own sake. The Supreme Leader charged me with delivering you, and I did assume that he meant in one piece." Hux hesitated, wondering whether to risk saying more; a perversion he could not resist made him go on. "The fact that that piece is no longer in optimal condition thanks to a scavenger girl from Jakku is hardly my fault."

Kylo's jaw tightened and he gave the saber an idle swing through the air: the blade hissed, cutting a livid red semi-circle against the dim light. Hux swallowed tightly and refrained from stepping back, though every nerve interested in self-preservation urged him to do just that.

"Watch yourself," Ren snarled, and the light of the saber flashed over the surface of his eyes. Hux sometimes wondered if there was any color at all in those irises: most often they appeared as black as the onyx walls of the chamber, snapping back external light like shards of opaque glass. "Don't presume that your orders from Snoke give you the right to second guess my actions."

"On the contrary, that is exactly the right they give me. I am well acquainted with your temperament, Ren," Hux snapped as the knight resumed his pacing, swinging the blade from side to side. "I know what being thwarted does to you. I've seen the explosions of temper, the recklessness that places not only your usefulness in jeopardy but - more importantly - the efficient operation of my ship! I will not deliver a malfunctioning weapon to Leader Snoke - or a damaged Star Destroyer!"

Kylo Ren stopped and turned sharply to face Hux. The general froze, choking on a gulped breath. One eye began to twitch until, through sheer force of will, he made it cease. He would show no fear in front of Ren. The thought of betraying his attraction was horrible enough; the thought of exposing the terror Ren inspired in him was insupportable.

"Come. Here."

The two words were spoken quietly, but there was no mistaking the command behind them or the inflection on the final word that indicated a simmering rage. Hux gritted his teeth and forced himself to speak without the least stammer.

"Why?"

" **Come. Here** ," Kylo repeated, the edge to his voice growing more keen. Still Hux refused to obey. Suddenly he felt an odd sensation in the muscles of his legs, as if molten metal had been injected into them; his whole body trembled as he experienced, contrary to the will of his mind, an unendurable need to move. He glared at Kylo, realizing what was happening, and he balled his fists and fought against it, a kind of low growl escaping his lips. But it was to no avail. Like an obedient puppet Hux staggered forward until he stood but a foot or two from Kylo Ren.

Hux wanted, desperately, to look away: to stare at the blank black slate of the far wall, or the still-smoking pieces of the shattered probe, but here too he found his own will thwarted. The worst part was that it was not the Force in this case that kept his gaze riveted on Kylo Ren, but his own traitorous lust. The Jakku girl had left Kylo scarred, but the wounds to his shoulder and side hardly deterred from the beauty of his broad chest, the cords of muscle that ran down his arms. And the scar to his face, thin and still livid, slicing a path just outside the inner corner of his right eye, added strangely to the odd sensuality of his mien: the contrast of the scar with the darkness of his eyes and the fullness of his lips brought to Hux's mind unwanted thoughts about the sensitivity of the flesh and the ways it could be manipulated to cause pain or pleasure. He found his eyes raking over Kylo, alighting upon various points in turn - the curve of his throat, the jut of a collarbone - and he felt himself sweating beneath his black uniform, the cold sweat of fear mingling with the hot sweat of desire.

"You're right, about my temperament," Kylo said, leaning towards him, speaking the words in a low, spitting hiss. "I felt you coming before you even entered the room, and the very thought of you - standing there, judging me, deluded in the mistaken assumption that you have some special value to Leader Snoke - it filled me with such anger that I destroyed my probe." Kylo watched Hux's eyes for the least reaction. "Now I have nothing to practice with. Except, of course, for you General."

The blade came up, the plasma sizzling, the quillon vents a whoosh in Hux's ears, and Kylo swung it in a one-handed arc over the general's head. Hux felt the heat of it against his scalp and it took every ounce of internal strength he had not to flinch. "Ren," he snarled, "I am warning you..."

Kylo paid him no mind. He walked in a slow circle around Hux, who found his muscles now locked into place, and began to toy with him as if he were nothing but a new probe of skin and bone and blood. Kylo went through the motions of his exercises, switching the blade from hand to hand, twisting his body and slashing out at Hux, bringing the unstable blade to a stop mere inches from the general's flesh. Helpless to move, unwilling to so much as blink, Hux clenched his teeth and raged inwardly: he loathed Ren utterly, wished he had the power to take the insolent knight apart with his bare hands, and yet... The way that long, lean body moved - the suppleness of each swivel, the extension of each arm as he made the saber dance in searing red lines around Hux's body... Hux loathed himself most of all.

The plasma popped and whistled as Kylo drew it back suddenly and, taking a few steps away from Hux, twisted and lunged, thrusting the blade forward so close to Hux's left cheek that he could feel his skin searing from the proximity, could feel scalding particles of plasma colliding with the angle of his jaw, and the sight in his left eye was temporarily blinded by the brightness of the weapon. Step by step Kylo walked closer to Hux, pushing the blade back further until the hilt was nearly at his shoulder and the right quillon vent flamed directly in front of his face. Mere inches separated them as Kylo stared mercilessly at Hux, the reflection of the red plasma pooling in his eyes. Hux sneered back, an act of defiance to cover his own discomfort: Ren was so close now that Hux could feel the steam rising off his bare skin, could smell the fresh sweat in his hair.

"Stop this at once!" Hux barked, no longer caring if the quillon were pushed into his face so long as it meant an end to this torment. Kylo's top lip curled, baring his teeth.

"Do not presume to give me orders," he growled. "You know nothing of the power I possess! You, to whom the Force is nothing but a word, an ancient bedtime story, something with which to entertain children--"

"I have no misconceptions about the power of the Force when used in a disciplined fashion," Hux spat. "But the Force wielded by a unstable madman is no more effective than a ventral cannon fired from a crashing ship!"

"You fool! I could crush you with my right hand. You forget who I am. Who my grandfather was..."

Hux demonstrated his boredom by flicking his eyes toward the ceiling, then letting his gaze go unfocused as he stared past Kylo at the far wall. As soon as he'd done it he knew he'd made a very great mistake. Kylo fell suddenly silent and Hux could not prevent the tremor that ran through his frame. He had overstepped, miscalculated. And now he was quite sure he was going to pay a steep price for his error.

"Look at me, General."

Kylo's voice was deceptively soft, hushed. Hux swallowed hard.

"Look at me."

Hux relented. He met Kylo's gaze and, all at once, the blade was removed from the side of his head. Hux could feel the sweat pouring down the side of his skull, through his hair and down the side of his neck, trickling beneath his collar.

Even though he had lowered his saber, Kylo remained where he was, his face mere inches from Hux's. Something seemed to amuse him.

"You like looking at me, don't you General?"

Hux started. He felt his mouth open as if to speak, but he did not, could not. His stomach twisted over itself.

Kylo took a single step back and Hux's gaze was automatically drawn downward. His eyes, eager - it seemed - to betray him, focused themselves on a bead of sweat clinging to one of Kylo's nipples and he barely stopped his tongue from snaking out to wet his lips.

"You think I don't know it?" Kylo asked. "That I haven't perceived it? The way you've watched me. The way your eyes have followed me. The things you've thought about me." He leaned close again, until his lips almost brushed Hux's as they moved. " _I've known it all along_."

Hux had begun to tremble. He tried to master himself as Kylo slowly began to circle him again, but the nearness of the knight - the way he purposefully brushed against Hux with a shoulder, a forearm - had shattered his defenses. As was his intention, Hux knew. No argument about the Force, about Snoke, about his administration of the _Finalizer_ , could have had so powerful an effect as this revelation.

When Kylo spoke again it was from behind Hux, his face over the general's shoulder, his mouth very close to Hux's ear. His deep voice and his breath fell warm against Hux's skin and he fought in vain against the inevitable reaction of his body to this nearness.

"I've seen your thoughts, Hux," Kylo whispered. "Seen the things you've imagined. Longed for." Kylo moved his mouth yet closer and his lips moved against the shell of Hux's ear. "I've seen the things you've wanted to do. I could have you right now, couldn't I?" The tip of Kylo's nose traced the curve of Hux's ear and a little sob of breath escaped Hux's lips before he could control himself. "Right now, right here. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"You bastard," Hux snarled through his teeth.

"Tell me I'm wrong," Kylo persisted. He edged his nose through Hux's hair, breathing hard, inhaling him. "Tell me I'm wrong."

Hux balled his fists at his sides, digging his fingernails into his palms until he wanted to scream. "You're wrong."

Kylo hesitated. Then Hux trembled as he felt the wet press of Kylo's tongue against his cheek. The knight licked a line slowly up the side of his face, and Hux feared he would spend right then in his breeches, so hard and sharp was his arousal, his need.

"Liar!" Kylo hissed suddenly, and the constraint of the Force was lifted from Hux's legs.

Caught off guard by the sudden resumption of his free will, Hux found his knees buckling beneath him and he pitched forward onto the shiny floor, catching himself on his hands. He turned over just in time to see Kylo switch off the lightsaber and stride forward, dropping to his knees to straddle Hux's hips.

The kiss - if a meeting of the mouths so brutal, so violent, could be called a kiss - knocked the air from Hux's lungs. He was conscious of the press of Kylo's body, his overwhelming strength, the heat of his mouth and the hunger with which he sucked. Then - the teeth, bearing down on his bottom lip, slicing into the tender flesh the way an animal tore the meat from a bone. Hux cried out as hot blood bubbled down his chin.

Kylo pulled back. He spat out some of Hux's blood and used the back of his hand to wipe the rest away. His dark eyes glittered as he stared down at Hux, sprawled upon his back, lip bleeding, erection clearly visible beneath the black silk of his jodhpurs.

"Now get out of my sight," Kylo snarled and he was back on his feet and striding away, activating his lightsaber again and swinging it wildly through the darkness.

Hux lay there for a moment, watching Kylo, before struggling upright. He touched his fingers to his lips and considered the smear of red that coated his pale skin as he walked toward the door of the chamber. Once there he paused and turned back around to regard Kylo again.

"You think you have demonstrated your mastery over me now, Ren," Hux said, and Kylo stopped, glancing back at the general over one shoulder. Hux grinned. "But you have only revealed yourself. Straddling me like that..." Hux made a clicking sound with his tongue. "I'm quite sure it wasn't the Force I felt pressing so hard against me." 

And without another word, Hux left the exercise chamber, satisfied in his new knowledge that lust - like hatred - flowed both ways.


End file.
